


I don't care, I'm down for what you want

by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Falling In Love, From Sex to Love, Iron Man Retelling, M/M, Secret Identity, Switching, bad boy steve, but mostly bottom tony, inspired by fan-made video, iron man events are happening in the background, non-graphic descriptions of panic attacks, steve wakes up in 2009
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 02:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20520338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/IronSwordStarShield
Summary: Steve waits, knowing that sooner or later he’ll catch Stark’s attention; there’s a reason he came to this party deliberately dressed down, wearing a brown leather jacket. And Stark loves his drink so, eventually, he’ll make his way over to Steve at the bar.That moment arrives almost two hours after Stark’s arrival. Stark’s a ways away but he stops right before he sips his drink, ice cubes clinking against the glass. Dark eyes rake over Steve, taking in the tailored pants, button-down shirt, and the leather jacket. There’s keen interest and curiosity burning in Stark’s eyes. It feels like the first genuine emotion Steve’s seen on the man tonight.Gotcha, Steve thinks with a smug smile as Stark downs his drink and strides over.--Steve Rogers came out of the ice somewhere in 2009 but he didn't pick up the Captain America mantle again. Instead, he chooses to become "Nomad," an agent for hire in one corner of the dark net. Then things get interesting when someone hires him to steal plans for something called an "arc reactor" from the recently rescued Tony Stark. Steve expects this to be an easy job but little does he realize, this whole life is about to change.





	I don't care, I'm down for what you want

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Steve/Tony (Badboy!Steve) Talking Body](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/516617) by TwiBabe23. 

> it feels like this fic took a bloody eternity to finish. but turns out I'd started this on the 9th of june so... not _that_ long. i imagine it feels longer because i worked steadily on it. also my original plan was for this fic to be like 5k or something but it just grew and grew and grew :P
> 
> at the end, i'm rather pleased with it overall! Be sure to check out the MV that inspired this fic in the first place :)
> 
> lets casually pretend that IM happened in NY instead of malibu and tony was living at the 5th avenue stark mansion kay?

Steve’s lying on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling of his jail cell when he hears the tell-tale beep of the main door opening. Sighing, Steve wonders who has come to visit. Is it Fury again, hoping to talk Steve into joining SHIELD? Coulson making another attempt to get Steve to open up about what he’s been up to since he’d woken up in this new century? Or some other government appointed lackey who’s going to try and guilt Steve into picking up the shield again? 

The door closes with a pressurized “swoosh”, almost hidden under the sound of firm footsteps walking up to his jail cell. Steve steels himself, not feeling up to visitors but the sooner he deals with them, the sooner he’ll be left alone. A blink and he heaves himself up, moving into a seated position before freezing instantaneously, fingers tightening in the flimsy mattress.

On the other side of the reinforced bars, Tony smiles faintly at him. “Hey Steve.” 

* * *

Steve’s got a bad feeling about this job. 

To be perfectly clear, it’s not the first time he’s had to get close to a target and steal something from them but something feels off about this job. Ignoring his gut isn’t wise but Steve accepts the job because he needs the money (and the pay-off is ludicrous). All he has to do is get close to Tony Stark and steal his plans for something called ‘a miniaturized arc reactor.’ Apparently, this technology is very dangerous and Stark’s using it to make a super weapon of some kind that could take out half the East Coast because of it. 

Distantly, Steve’s aware of who Tony Stark is thanks to the recent media circus surrounding his rescue from Afghanistan (there’s also the fact that he’s Howard’s son but that’s a horse of another color). It’s all the media’s been talking about for the past week. That, and the fact that the first thing Stark had done after returning was close his company’s weapons manufacturing division, which accounted for the majority of the company’s sales. He imagines it’s been a wild ride at the company since Stark’s return.

Sure it seems a little weird that Stark’s supposedly making a weapon after publicly announcing they’re going to do that anymore but it doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility. Maybe it was all some stunt to amplify sales of this new weapon Stark’s making. Maybe it’s some odd plan to drive up prices. Whatever. It’s none of Steve’s business ultimately.. All he has to do is get those plans, get paid, and that’s all there is to it.

Steve does some research beforehand and strategizes. There’s plenty of ways he can go about stealing the plans for Stark and the simplest and safest way, in Steve’s opinion, is to use Stark’s sordid history as a playboy. Also, getting close to his mark and swiping the target out from under their nose?  _ Extremely  _ satisfying. As for can he fake an attraction to Stark? There’s something appealing about Stark’s eyes; it’s the sharp intelligence in his eyes, the smugness of his smile. It pulls on Steve’s lust and makes him want to see Stark submit to him. 

It shouldn’t be too hard to get Stark’s attention; Steve knows what he looks like and Stark seems to have a weakness for good looking people. No, the real challenge in this job will be keeping Stark fooled long enough to steal the blueprints without leaving a trace of himself behind. But how hard can it be keeping a blow-hard, egoist distracted anyways?

* * *

Steve’s been to fancy shin-dings before where people wear overpriced outfits and champagne flows freely but this is  _ opulent _ in comparison. Everything gleams gold and pearl, warmed by the golden light of the chandeliers. Jewels glimmer and sparkle all around him. Men flash watches worth more than what Steve makes in a year, even with his less than legal job. Alcohol and gossip flows freely with laughter and sly backhanded compliments. Steve stays at the bar, nursing a beer as he watches Tony Stark enter the hall. 

It’s a showy entrance, exactly what you’d expect from the man. Stark seems in good health and spirits considering what he’s been through - three months of captivity and probably torture at the hands of terrorists. But the real tell-tale signs aren’t physical. Steve watches Stark carefully, noting the brittleness of his smile and how he actively avoids being touched. The scars are there but these people don’t seem to notice. Steve imagines they’re delighting in seeing the dents in Stark’s armor; they love prodding at each others’ perceived weaknesses after all. 

Steve waits, knowing that sooner or later he’ll catch Stark’s attention; there’s a reason he came to this party deliberately dressed down, wearing a brown leather jacket. And Stark loves his drink so, eventually, he’ll make his way over to Steve at the bar.

That moment arrives almost two hours after Stark’s arrival. Stark’s a ways away but he stops right before he sips his drink, ice cubes clinking against the glass. Dark eyes rake over Steve, taking in the tailored pants, button-down shirt, and the leather jacket. There’s keen interest and curiosity burning in Stark’s eyes. It feels like the first genuine emotion Steve’s seen on the man tonight.

_ Gotcha _ , Steve thinks with a smug smile as Stark downs his drink and strides over.

* * *

When Steve had driven the plane down into the icy waters of the Arctic ocean, he’d been ready to die. Of course he had. There’s no way anyone could survive that crash landing. But as it turns out, some weird organization called AIM had. To be fair, they’d thought they could steal Steve’s shield and use the vibranium-alloy to make weapons. 

They’d found him in the icy wreckage of the Valkyrie and thawed him out. They were an odd organization that Steve hesitates to call villainous because they’re too inept to be effectively bad. You have to be a certain level of idiotic to try and convince  _ Captain America  _ to become a villain after all. To make a boring story short: Steve had run away from AIM, suffered shock after shock as he’d learned all he could about this brave new world, and ultimately decided he didn’t want to be Captain America. Not for a while anyway. He doesn’t think they need Captain America in 2009 anyway. 

But he needs to survive so he stumbles his way through freelancing all kinds of jobs for a variety of clientele. He depends on the good will of many people but ultimately, it doesn’t take long for him to fall into the seedy underbelly of New York. There’s plenty of people who’re willing to pay him an exorbitant amount of money to complete tasks of questionable legality. 

They’re simple enough jobs if he doesn’t look too closely at them - be a bodyguard, transport this item from one place to another. Mostly it’s him acting like hired muscle. Steve does his best to pick jobs he knows won’t smother him with guilt. Not that he fancies himself as a modern-day Robin Hood but he doesn’t feel any qualms taking things away from the greedy rich and helping the deserving poor. Sometimes he’s asked to escort people from one place to another, acting as a bodyguard. One such job involved transporting a red-haired businesswoman, Natalya Rabkin, from Cincinnati to Washington DC. 

At least, she’d  _ claimed  _ to be a businesswoman. The advice and seduction techniques she’d casually shared with him had made him challenge the profile he’d been provided; he’s dead sure she’s an  _ escort _ to the rich and powerful. But ultimately, he’s made good use of the information she’d shared, especially on this Stark job. 

Steve wants to say it was hard seducing Tony Stark but it’s easy, laughably so. A little bit of flirting, a couple of subtle touches, an open invitation, and he’s got Stark’s tongue down his throat as the hotel elevator zips up to Stark’s penthouse. Thank fuck that the elevator’ll take them straight into the private suite; Steve’s not keen on the idea of letting someone see them like this. 

Steve pulls the man’s shirt tails out of his pants, thoughtlessly wanting to kiss Stark and see how far that tan goes, when a sharp grip on his wrists stop him from rucking the crisp white shirt up. Blinking in surprise, Steve pulls away from Tony, lips tingling. 

“The shirt stays on,” Stark tells him, voice husky but firm. It’s non-negotiable, his eyes tell Steve.

Steve shrugs and changes course, sliding his hands under Stark’s pants to squeeze his pert ass. Whatever, he’ll go straight to the main course then if that’s what Stark wants. And if the hardness pressing against Steve’s crotch is anything to go by, Stark’s down for that plan.

As he squeezes Stark’s ass again, Steve whispers in his ear, “Do you want to fuck me? Or get fucked?”

The way Stark’s fingernails press into his shoulders is gratifying, as is the quick hiss of breath the man sucks in. Steve smirks, lazily grinding their hips together, waiting for Stark to pass judgement. He hopes Stark will say he wants to be fucked...

“Both,” Stark breathes out, demanding hands pulling him back in for a kiss.

Steve’s chuckles turn into quite moans of delight because oh. When had Stark unzipped Steve’s jeans? Whatever. Not important. The elevator dings softly before its doors open to reveal a darkened suite.  _ Finally _ . Steve ruts into the hand pressing into his cock, panting, “Bed.”

“Bed,” Stark agrees, using the hand he’s got around Steve’s cock to pull him towards the bed.

* * *

Despite popular opinion, Steve’s not the paragon of virtue media has made him out to be ‘posthumously.’ He doesn’t say shit like “Golly gee whiz” or is scandalized upon seeing two people  _ kiss _ . He’s from the 1940’s, not the 1440’s. He was in the Army, where cursing was more common than a sunny day in the desert. There was PDA back in the 1940’s too, not as hypersexualized or overt but people still kissed and fucked back then too. 

And here’s the other thing media’s gotten wrong about him: his sexuality. That part doesn’t surprise him however because he never told anyone that he liked girls as much as he liked guys (more accurately, he likes girls  _ more  _ than he likes guys). But back then, he never had a chance to act on his feelings, at least not towards men.

Now, he has experienced plenty of firsts - first time going into a gay bar, first time going down on a guy, first time getting fucked, first time sucking off a guy while being pegged by a girl. It’s wonderful, Steve’s got to admit. He’s grateful for all his experience now that he has to work over Stark because that man is...

It’s not that Stark is demanding in bed. He’s pretty generous all things considered. It’s just the man’s mind runs a million miles an hour, jumping from one topic to another so rapidly anyone would get whiplash. Steve hadn’t thought he had to do more than suck Stark’s dick to keep his attention on Steve but one night, Stark had started babbling to his phone about  _ something  _ and Steve could only stare at him because who would be rambling about...thermodynamics or  _ whatever  _ when getting a blowjob? Tony Stark apparently. 

That’s when Steve realizes he needs to up his game, hone Stark’s focus on Steve, or else the whole mission might blow up in Steve’s face. After a little bit of experimentation and testing, Steve learns that the best way to get Stark to shut up and is by following through with “I’m going to fuck you through the mattress.” 

It’s got to be intense and hard; there has to be no room for Stark to  _ think _ . He has to push Stark on all fours, thoroughly finger-blast him, and then ruthlessly fuck him. He has to overload Stark’s senses; prevent him from processing what’s going on and make him feel so much he can’t do anything but beg, “There! Please, please,  _ please.” _

And if Steve’s the one being fucked? It’s easy to force Stark to look at him when he’s sitting on the man’s dick. Easily to hold his attention when he refuses to move until Stark’s glaring at him, dark eyes glinting unhappily as he silently asks why did Steve stop moving? Steve didn’t use to be good at teasing people but he’s good at it now. And Stark is just  _ so easy  _ to manipulate in that regard.

* * *

As he watches Stark walk back to the bathroom, dirty washcloth in hand, Steve finds his thoughts drifting towards Stark and what kind of life the man leads.

How come Stark doesn’t have someone? What kind of idiosyncrasies does Stark have that he doesn’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend and he’s using Steve as a proxy? And that’s the thing of it too; he’s not strictly ‘using’ Steve. If he was really using Steve, he’d kick him out as soon as they were done. But instead, Stark’s been pretty decent. He’ll clean Steve up, tell him he can order whatever he wants from room service, stay the rest of the night in the hotel room if he wants. The only catch is, Stark doesn’t stay the night. He leaves shortly after Steve pretends to fall asleep. 

Stark must feel pretty isolated if he’s using Steve to comfort himself. But Steve shakes the thought away, telling himself it’s none of his business and this is a weakness for him to exploit, to use to worm his way closer to Stark.

It’s slow going actually, his plan to win Stark’s trust. Steve’s wondering if maybe things are going too slow, what he needs to do to speed things up, and had the client said anything about delivering the plans on any kind of deadline? What draws Steve out of his head is Stark’s leering comment of “Darling, if you want to go another round, all you had to do was ask.”

Steve blinks at Stark, who stands in the doorway between the bed and bathroom, staring at Steve’s crotch. Glancing down himself, Steve sees the half-hard cock there and smirks before sliding his hand down to touch himself. With his other hand, he crooks one finger to invite Stark back to bed.

* * *

“If you need anything, just ask JARVIS,” Tony tells him as he finishes getting ready.

It’s the first time Steve’s been inside Stark’s home, a beautiful mansion that seems far too big for one person. The fact that Tony had brought Steve back to the tower feels like a victory - another step forward in his plan. It’d made Steve particularly enthusiastic in last night’s sex.

Steve’s gaze rakes over the sharp suit Stark’s put on, distantly thinking about how delicious it would be to slowly peel the charcoal gray suit off Tony’s body. He shakes the thoughts away, wondering why he’s feeling more sex stupid than usual and asks, “Who’s Jarvis?”

“My AI. He monitors everything in the tower. Whatever you need, a ride back, food, whatever, he’ll help.”

Steve’s grateful for the fact that Stark’s ducked back into his walk-in closet because Steve stiffens in bed. An AI? Stark’s got an  _ AI  _ installed in his home?

_ Shit _ . 

* * *

Steve stares at the long and angry email he’s written to the client before he trashes it. 

He needs to be professional about this; there’s no sense in being angry at whoever hired him even though it would be completely justified because the  _ asshole  _ never said  _ anything  _ about the security Stark’s got installed in his home. (In hindsight, Steve wants to kick himself because it’s  _ so obvious _ ! He should have anticipated that from the get go!). 

After taking a few breaths, and watching some calming puppy videos on YouTube, Steve slowly re-types the email, pointing out that the client failed to mention that Stark’s got the most advanced AI on the planet installed in his home, so breaking into his private server to get the aforementioned blueprints within a month is next to impossible. 

Little known fact, Stark Industries digital security products are considered to be the best in the market, same as their weapons. They’re not unbreakable by any means but they’re a bitch to crack. Add in an AI that’s monitoring everything within Stark’s home and this is going to take a lot more time that he’d initially planned. Steve mentions this and how he expects to be paid an additional 40% on top of the agreed upon sum before sending the email.

As he’s done, his phone buzzes against the table. Steve glances at the screen, frustration turning into a low sizzle of heat when he sees that it’s Stark calling. Stark only calls for one reason and one reason alone. And right now? Steve wants the chance to blow off some steam.

Steve’s on his feet as he answers the call, huskily asking, “Miss me already?”

“Missing your dick in my ass, more like it,” Stark laughs back. “How soon can you get here?”

Steve looks down at himself, checking the lounging pants and day-old shirt before checking the clock on his laptop. He’ll need some time to shower and then there’s traffic. “An hour.”

“Okay. I’ll get started without you.”

Steve curses in dead air before hurrying to take a quick shower. 

* * *

Later that night, Steve wakes up and muzzily wonders what awoke him when he feels something tickling his chin. He tries to move but finds himself pinned under Stark’s lax body. Steve blinks down at the man and finds himself smiling when a small snore passes Stark’s lips. That’s a rarity. Usually the man’s the first one out of bed. He must have been more tired than he’d let on.

Patting around him, Steve finds the edge of the dark quilt and pulls it over their entwined bodies before he presses a sleepy kiss into Stark’s hair and goes back to sleep.

* * *

Williams sounds like he’s lost his damn mind. “You want to break into Stark’s personal AI? Are you  _ nuts _ ? I knew you’ve got a death wish but leave me out of it.”

“You’re the smartest hacker I know. Word on the street is you’re better than Stark too.”

Williams grunts but she doesn’t disagree. “It’s a stupid idea.”

“It pays a lot.”

“How much?”

When Steve tells her her cut? William’s immediately says, “I’m going to need as much time as you can get me.”

* * *

Being Tony Stark’s fuck buddy means that he regularly bumps into other people in Tony’s life. 

The person he interacts with the most is Tony’s PA, Pepper Potts. At first, she treats him like an annoying bug flying around her head, ready to swat him dead as soon as he flies into her reach. But when she realizes he’s a recurring figure in Tony’s life, making sure Tony doesn’t overdose on coffee and has a proper meal whenever he’s around (and being in a peppy mood because he got some), she relaxes a little. 

Steve\s impression of her is that she’s a nice lady, incredibly intelligent, and with the patience of a saint given how she handles Tony’s antics. Super pretty too. She doesn’t demand respect from the people around her but she’s so competent that people give it to her anyways.

The other person Steve runs into a lot is Obadiah Stane. Steve doesn’t like him. He’s a big guy who uses his physicality to intimidate the people around him, Tony included. Steve’s not sure if Tony notices that or not, but Steve knows better than to bring that up. Tony looks up to Stane, holding him equal to a father figure. But to Steve? The man’s one wrong move away from being classified a bully. Steve resolves to stay out of Stane’s way. 

* * *

Stane’s good for one thing though - he lets the words “arc reactor” slip out when Steve’s around, thereby giving him the opportunity to ask Tony, later and in private, “What was Stane talking about before? The arc reactor?”

“Just something he wants me to make for the company.” Tony places his drink down on the table, glass clinking against glass. A dark storm’s been brewing in Tony’s brown eyes since Stane’s mentioned the arc reactor. Steve tries not to feel disappointed by the lack of an answer, especially when the look on Tony’s eyes changes to flirtatious.

Tony saunters up to Steve, sex on his mind if the fire in his eyes is anything to go by. Steve stays seated, arms spread on the sofa’s back. He sucks in a quick breath when Tony straddles his lap, fingers dancing up Steve’s chest, whispering, “Do you want to talk business or fuck me?”

* * *

He’s been sleeping with Tony for a few weeks now and Steve’s learned a lot about the man. 

First and foremost, the image isn’t the man. There’s Tony Stark the fast-talking, businessman and Stark Industries CEO. There’s Tony Stark the dedicated engineer who forgets  _ everything  _ when he’s struck with a brilliant idea. And then there’s just Tony, the core of the man, who is content when wearing ratty jeans, eating pizza, and jumping over the back of the sofa to catch the latest episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

  
  


The next thing Steve has learned, and this is far more important, is that Tony’s developing  _ something  _ down in his lab. It’s obviously a secret and it’s dangerous enough to leave large patches of bruises on Tony’s body. But here’s the funny part; it’s not a weapon. That’s something Tony insists with such vehemence that Steve believes it to be true. Which begs the question: what the hell is Tony working on when Steve sleeps? 

Tony likes his drink, preferably whiskey or coffee. He’s prone to getting lost in his work, to the point that he’ll sometimes forget to eat or rest. He does his best to push past his limits because... well. Steve doesn’t know why. He just knows there’s been at least three times where Tony’s fallen asleep on him half-way through sex because he’d stayed up for more than 24 hours working on his secret project. He’s more honest that he’ll ever admit and he’s fiercely devoted to the people he loves.

He’s terribly secretive as well but Tony’s been softening on that side. He talks more and more to Steve about his project but it’s all in vague terms. It’s going to change the world. It’s incredibly complicated. The learning curve is so steep it may as well be a straight line up; Tony’s words, not his. 

He talks about the arc reactor once, when he’s delirious due to a lack of sleep. Tony says it will change the way the world works. It’s going to be a feat of modern engineering. “Isaac and Newton, eat your heart out,” Tony mumbles into Steve’s neck before he passes out.

Steve holds Tony against him and ponders on that wording. “It’s going to change the world.” Tony had slurred into Steve’s palm. “No more dependence on fossil fuels ‘n’ that garbage. Jus’ clean energy for years.” 

Tony’s take on the arc reactor is dramatically different from what Steve had been told when he’d taken the job. He can’t help but wonder why? Why the lies and secrecy? He makes a mental note to send William’s a note to look into whoever’d made the request in the first place because this whole job  _ stinks _ .

* * *

For many reasons, Steve didn’t push Tony when he said he doesn’t want to take his shirt off during sex. He assumes there’s got to be a good reason behind it. Mostly, he doesn’t want to get on Tony’s bad side. And Steve considers himself a decent guy as well, so he chooses to respect Tony’s privacy on that front.

But there comes a night where Tony comes home in a foul mood, made worse when Steve refuses to play along and asks Tony to stop in between biting kisses that genuinely hurt. And that’s when things take a turn for the worse. 

Tony shoves Steve off of him, walking over to the bar bristling with anger. Steve watches Tony stomp over to pour himself a drink, noticing the way the brunet’s hands are trembling. He stands there, shirt off and jean’s unzipped, feeling a little unsettled as Tony drains his glass in one go before angrily asking, “Why haven’t you asked?” 

“Ask what?” Steve asks in bewilderment. What the hell could have happened to transform the usually jovial man into someone this dark and angry? Is he upset that Steve said no to having sex? Is that it? No... Tony came home in a foul mood. So something else was the cause. But Steve rejecting Tony hasn’t helped either...

“Why I don’t take my shirt off when we fuck!” Tony yells.

_ That’s  _ not what Steve was expecting Tony to say. Not wanting this to devolve into a yelling match, Steve holds his hands up in surrender. “You said you didn’t want to take it off and that’s okay. It’s not like it got in the way of having sex. I don’t care why either.”

An odd expression flits over Tony’s face; disbelief Steve would say. Tony looks like he can’t believe it’s that simple. But it’s swiftly replaced with anger again, darker this time. It makes the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck prickle. There’s some toxic bubbling up in Tony’s head but he’s not letting it out. 

“Is that what’s really bothering you?” Steve asks, heart in his throat as he hopes he’s built enough good will to push Tony like this. Taking a chance, Steve walks up to Tony and touches his wrist. “Talk to me, Tony. What’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong. Don’t you know? There’s nothing that can possibly be wrong with me.” Tony says this mockingly, yanking his hand out of Steve’s grip but at least he doesn’t pour himself another drink. The shakes move up to Tony’s shoulders as he continues, “Everything peachy keen. And I definitely didn’t find out that someone from my company’s been selling my weapons under the table to the same terrorists who tortured me.”

Steve sucks in a sharp breath, feeling out of his depth when the sound catches Tony’s attention. 

The smile Tony directs his way is ugly. “Yeah. That’s who you’re sleeping with. The guy who was so stupid he didn’t catch his own shit being sold to the bad guys. Who was so focused on having sex and drinking his liver away he didn’t realize he was responsible for the death of his own people. You still feel like being here?”

It’s a confrontation made to push Steve away. Unfortunately for Tony, Steve doesn’t care about any of that because he knows the truth about who Tony is. He’s seen it with his own eyes.

“Yes,” Steve replies without hesitation. He sees Tony gearing up to argue back and cuts the man off before he even starts. “You just said you didn’t know it was happening. Short of keeping track of  _ every order  _ that came in, how were you supposed to know what was going on?”

“I should have known because it was  _ my company _ !” Tony roars, slamming his fist down onto the bar, making the bottles rattle. “I should have known because it was  _ my name  _ on those weapons!”

“You can’t know everything Tony! It’s not physically possible. I’m sure you had systems in place to stop this from happening.”

“Then why did it happen?” Tony challenges immediately. “How did those guys get my weapons?”

“Because someone knew the system well enough to beat it! No system is perfect. All you have to do is find the person who did it. And I know you will too.”

“What makes you so sure?” 

Steve’s not entirely sure where this defense is coming from. From the look in Tony’s eyes, he can’t believe it either. But he’s not lying when he said he believes Tony is blameless in this matter. 

After spending so much time around Tony, Steve’s realized there’s a lot more to the man than the mask he presents to the world. A man who avoids sleeping to prevent being haunted by the specter of good men who died to save him, who talks with near manic excitement of all the ways he’ll revolutionize green energy, who tosses his wealth away at every noble cause he stumbles upon with the sole condition of anonymity, can’t be all bad. And he’s not. Tony Stark has an ego yes, but there’s so much more to him than that. He’s all heart underneath the bluster the world sees. And right now? He’s a bundle of exposed nerves screaming in agony and hungry for reassurance. 

“Because I know you. You’re not the kind of guy who’ll take this lying down. You want to make things right, no matter the cost. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have closed down your entire weapon’s division. If you  _ really  _ didn’t care, you wouldn’t be shelling out money to change everything in your factories to keep everyone you’ve got. You wouldn’t be buying back every weapon people are willing to sell, melting it down, and changing it into prosthetics that’re going to change lives!

You’re a good man Tony Stark. That’s why you’ll get to the bottom of this and stop whoever’s responsible.”

“A good man,” Tony scoffs, mouth twisted down as he shakes his head. But it’s not fast enough; Steve catches the wet glimmer in Tony’s dark eyes. “There’s nothing good about me.”

Steve shakes his head in disagreement, daring to step into Tony’s bubble and cup his cheek, thumb stroking the angry flush on Tony’s cheekbone. “There’s  _ plenty  _ good about you.”

Tony looks on the verge of disagreement again but this time, Steve kisses him quiet, gently. He guides his hands up to cup Tony’s face, hoping his touch will wipe away Tony’s arguments. Tony melts into him, his desperation transforming as he clings to Steve. Steve’s more than happy to hold the man in return. 

Steve’s the one who freezes when Tony gently pushes him away, wondering what’s wrong when he realizes what’s happening. He holds his breath as Tony unbuttons his own shirt, staring at the faint blue light that’s peeking through the thick tank top underneath. 

_ What the hell is that?  _ Steve wonders, eyes widening when Tony takes the tank top off and reveals...

“What is...” Steve’s hand hovers over the circular disc but doesn’t touch. He’s not sure if it’s okay. It’s a device of some kind, embedded in Tony’s chest. That must  _ hurt _ . It also explains why Tony doesn’t sleep on his chest. There’s so much scarring around the device as well. Alarmed, he meets Tony’s wary gaze, “Does it hurt? It looks like it’s heavy.”

The naked surprise on Tony’s face makes Steve’s heart ache for some reason. “It...You get used to it. It’s not that bad, the weight of it.” There’s a beat where Tony’s expression softens into something painfully vulnerable. “You can touch it if you want.”

“It won’t hurt?” Steve asks again, needing that reassurance.

When Tony nods, Steve carefully presses his fingertips to the edge, where metal meets skin, and sucks in a breath. It’s warmer than he thought it would be but still cool. God, it’s so weird to think of something being inserted in someone’s chest. It makes Steve’s lungs shrink in sympathetic agony. 

He traces the shape of the disc, wondering how long has Tony had this? What happened? But Steve’s pushed enough for one night. And there’s one thing he wants to do more than satiate his curiosity and that’s to duck down and press a kiss to the center of the disc; to comfort Tony and bring a smile back to his lips.

He smiles up at Tony’s startled gaze. “It looks like you’ve got a star trapped in your chest.”

Something complicated goes through Tony’s eyes before he pulls Steve in for a kiss, effectively hiding his reaction from the blond. 

* * *

After that, Steve makes it a point to kiss the disc in Tony’s chest whenever they have sex. It just feels like the right thing to do and Tony doesn’t seem to mind. He looks at Steve like he’s odd for doing it but he doesn’t stop Steve. 

He also blushes a little every time Steve compares it with a star. It’s terribly charming and makes Steve grin like an idiot. 

* * *

Steve’s compromised and he knows it but he doesn’t want to do anything about it either. He’s not good at being willfully ignorant, never was, but it feels  _ right  _ to stay in bed with Tony long after they’re done having sex. Don’t get him wrong, the sex is amazing, but the parts outside of it? Are just as amazing as well.

Steve enjoys waking up under Tony’s watchful gaze. He likes pulling Tony under him and kissing him until his body is pliant and soft, moving whatever way Steve wants. He loves pulling Tony into the bath with him, washing him clean with careful movements. He likes bickering with Tony about whether they should watch Grey’s or CSI. He loves taking pictures of Manhattan waking up and sending them to Tony.

_ You should quit when you start falling for your mark,  _ he remembers Natalya warning him but Steve ignores that old advice. He’s not falling for Tony. He’s just doing what needs to be done to keep Tony interested. And he needs to keep Tony on the hook long enough for Williams to crack JARVIS’ security.

Steve tells himself that’s what he’s doing, and not letting personal curiosity get the better of him, when he runs his fingertips over the metallic disc in the center of Tony’s chest, and asks, “What  _ is  _ this anyway?”

He feels Tony stiffen in his arms and wonders if he shouldn’t have asked. 

“A high-tech pace maker. It’s keeping me alive,” is the only answer he gets.

* * *

There comes a day when Steve wakes up and is told by JARVIS that Tony wants him to come down to the lab. To say he’s excited would be an understatement. It hits Steve seconds before he enters Tony’s lab that his excitement is genuine. He’s not excited because he’s finally earned enough of Tony’s trust. No, his excitement is rooted in something more genuine, something that could jeopardize this mission.

This realization is so startling that it cuts into Steve’s happiness. He looks over Tony’s inner sanctum and feels amazement yes, but he also realizes that this trust is built on lies. Some of his worry must show on his face because the first thing Tony says after catching sight of him is a concerned, “You okay? You look like you just stepped on a puppy’s tail.”

_ I’m so fucked, I’m so fucking fucked,  _ Steve thinks helplessly as he looks down at Tony.  _ I fell in love with you somewhere down the line and didn’t even realize it.  _

Swallowing does nothing to soothe the dryness that’s taken over his mouth. Steve turns his face, presses a kiss to the center of Tony’s palm, and tells him, “Fine. I’m fine. JARVIS said you wanted to show me something?”

Happiness is in Tony’s eyes, overwhelming and delightful. “Yeah. I souped up your bike.”

“My bike?” Steve asks, alarmed but also excited despite himself because he’s seen some of the upgrades Tony’s done to his cars. “You didn’t put rockets on it did you?”

Tony just grins as he pulls Steve away, leaving Steve to ask with greater alarm, “ _ Did you _ ?”

* * *

Steve gets an email from Williams, saying the program is taking more time than expected. Her initiate estimate of three months was wildly off the mark. She’ll need another two months at least. Steve is happy to tell her, ‘Take your time.’

As for who posted the job to steal from Tony? It’s someone with  _ seriously  _ deep pockets, Williams writes. But apparently, they haven’t covered their tracks perfectly. Williams is confident she’ll be able to ferret out the true identity of the poster soon. Faster if they post another job to the board. Steve thanks her for her help and asks her to keep him in the loop.

* * *

Steve takes to holding Tony close when they make love, slowly rocking into the other man instead of jack-hammering into him. He doesn’t remember the last time they fucked without facing each other. He slips out of bed to make morning coffee for Tony as he showers. Their text exchanges and conversations have turned from sexts only to full-fledged conversations. They’ve cultivated a relationship.

But it doesn’t occur to Steve how much Tony trusts him until the night where Tony calls him at 2AM, breathing shallow and strained. It jerks Steve to wakefulness, sharply asking Tony what’s wrong? Tony rasps an apology but Steve’s body moves on it’s own, grabbing his jeans and slipping them on as he tells Tony he’s on his way. 

As soon as he sees Tony, tastes the desperation on Tony’s lips, Steve knows that sex won’t help Tony escape the demons in his head. There’s no running away from the demons in your head after all. And he doesn’t think Tony’s in any state to be having sex.

So Steve pulls Tony on the back of his bike and tells him, “Hang on.” T

hey do what Steve did in those first few months after waking up; they drive the night and most of the next morning away, winding through New York’s back streets and alleys with no goal in mind. It’s just them, the wind in their face, and an endless road stretching out before him.

They’re on the wrong side of New Jersey, the sun stretching well over the horizon, bike parked outside a biker, when Tony leans into his shoulder and whispers, “Thanks. I needed this.”

And when they return to Tony’s place and part ways? After Steve’s pulled his bike into its usual spot in Tony’s private garage? Tony kisses him sweetly and smiles in a way that makes Steve’s heart clench. It’s tender and private, that little smile. 

Steve can’t pinpoint the moment he was compromised. But  _ that’s  _ when he realizes that he’s truly fucked. 

* * *

It becomes a recurring thing, driving off on Steve’s bike or in one of Tony’s fancy cars with no destination in mind. But what’s Tony trying to escape from? Steve wonders but doesn’t ask. There’s been so many times where he’ll see a dark expression take over Tony’s warm eyes, stormy and tempestuous. But they always happen when Tony thinks Steve’s not looking, which makes him wonder what’s Tony keeping from him. 

Some nights are for long quiet drives and others are for pulling into a dark spot and let Tony crawl into his lap. Steve pulls Tony close those nights, kissing his desperation away, rubbing soothing circles into Tony’s hips as he pushes himself too hard. Steve doesn’t understand why Tony insists on punishing himself in these small ways but he tries his best to prevent them from happening. He makes Tony slow down, biting his bottom lip in reproach, using his grip on Tony’s hips to force him to slow down, hissing as he flips them over to control the pace and slide into Tony slow and deep. 

But never once do they talk about why - why are they out here? What’s bothering Tony? Is there anything Steve can do to help? The only thing Steve asks one morning, in a rare moment of self doubt, when they’re pulling back into the garage, is, “Does this help?” 

He’s got his hand on top of Tony’s, on top of the gear stick. While what he means to ask is do these late night drives help but what Steve  _ really  _ wants to know if his presence is a balm to Tony’s wounds.

A warm shiver runs up his arm when Tony brushes a kiss against Steve’s knuckles. “You help more than you know.”

* * *

_ I love him.  _

The thought is fleeting and quick and it wipes the smile off Steve’s face. Panic overwhelms him, telling him he needs to get out of here; he needs to get out of this diner, jump right out the window until he can run away from his own brain because what?  _ What _ ?

When did this fucking happen and why didn’t he see it was happening? He knew he was compromised, he knew he had feelings for Tony, but Steve never thought it was this deep. It’s... God. This is such a clusterfuck.

Across the diner table, Tony pauses half-way through stealing some of Steve’s fries, grin turning into a concerned look. “You okay?”

Steve hopes he’s smiling at Tony when he lies, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

* * *

One night Tony pulls the car to the curb with a suddenness that almost makes Steve head bang into the dashboard. He barely has time to call out Tony’s name before the man is stumbling out of the car and crouching out of sight. 

Steve’s confusion lasts up until he walks around the car and sees Tony’s curled-up, trembling form pressed against the car door. Tony’s face is hidden between his knees, back against the car body. He’s having some kind of an attack if his wheezing breath is any indication. 

Concerned,Steve crouches down next to him, one cautious hand on the back of Tony’s neck and the other on top of his knees. “Tony? Baby?” he asks, stroking Tony’s hair back in the hopes of catching sight of his face. “What is it?”

Tony’s body shakes like a leaf in the wind. “I can’t...breathe...Panic attack.”

Shit. Fuck. Okay. Okay. Uh, what’s he supposed to do?

“How can I help?” Steve asks, rubbing soothing circles into Tony’s skin.

Trembling fingers latch onto his shirt before Tony turns his body into Steve. He tucks his face into Steve’s shoulder, breath thin and high. “Stay. Just... stay.”

_ Why won’t you let me in?  _ Steve wonders, more hurt than frustrated as he tightens his grip on Tony. He hates feeling this way, so helpless in the face of Tony’s anguish.  _ What’s haunting you?  _

* * *

The truth weighs heavy on Steve’s conscious now that he understands the depths of his own feelings. Every time Tony’s warm gaze falls on him, Steve wants to squirm and/or hide in shameful regret. When Tony kisses him, Steve squeezes his eyes shut and prays for forgiveness. When Tony enters him, Steve holds on with every fibre of his being, face buried against Tony’s shoulder. He sobs when Tony whispers compliments into his skin, wanting to argue that no, he doesn’t deserve this.

Steve’s never been good at willful ignorance but he  _ can’t  _ tell Tony. No matter how much Tony might care for him, once he knows the truth then he’ll want Steve to leave. At the core of him however, Steve’s an honest man. He realizes he’s being selfish in his voice and how what he’s doing is wrong. That same part of him understands that keeping Tony in the dark for much longer isn’t an option. 

But he’s just so terribly  _ afraid _ . There’s a minuscule part of him that wants to believe Tony’ll forgive him. That same part of him, that smallest voice in his heart, urges him to come clean, to place his trust in Tony, to take that risk because it’ll be worth it. Reality will probably not be so kind. He needs to swallow his fears and do what’s right. 

He tests the waters one night as they’re walking out of a 24 hour diner. Tony’s shoulder brushing against Steve's every other step, sending small shivers down Steve’s back. They stand at a crossroad, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green when Steve broaches the subject. 

“Hypothetical question.”

“No good ever came out of a question that started like that,” Tony drawls, linking their hands together as they wait. A taxi slows down in front of them before taking the turn. The car behind it honks irritably. 

Ignoring him, Steve continues, “If someone you knew was keeping a secret, a big secret, that could change your relationship...would you want to know? Would you want them to tell you?”

Tony’s gaze is too knowing and kind. It fills Steve with paranoid dread because does Tony know? Maybe he does. Maybe he’s known the whole time but he didn’t say anything because... because...?

“I’d want to know but I understand that there’s some secrets you’re not ready to share with someone until the right time.”

Reassured, Steve breathes out a small sigh. It sounds like Tony knows and he’s ready to forgive Steve for it. Though, he doesn’t feel worthy of Tony’s forgiveness if he’s honest. The light shifts to green but he keeps Tony in place, using their linked fingers to pull Tony in and press their foreheads together. “I want to tell you,” Steve confesses softly. “But I’m scared.”

“It’s not that bad of a secret,” Tony tells him with so much surety that Steve’s knees almost give out. “I mean, you did a good job of covering your tracks and on face value, your persona stands up to regular scrutiny. But I’m not regular people.”

He  _ stares  _ at Tony, speechless and terrified.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid _ ! Steve berates himself. Of course Tony would have looked into him! The man’s a genius! And he probably has people throwing themselves at him all the time! Of course he’d have looked into Steve Grant and realized something was wrong. But the persona he’s built since he’s woken up doesn’t have any connection to his job persona of ‘Nomad’. But again, this is Tony Stark. Who knows what tipped him off and how he figured out-

“Besides which,” Tony murmurs as he scrubs a soothing hand through Steve’s hair, “if Captain America doesn’t want the world to know he’s back then I’m not going to spill the beans.”

His heart pounds in his chest, against his ribs; adrenaline floods him, urging him to run, run,  _ run and don’t look back _ . How did Tony... _ How _ ? 

The question must be tremendously obvious to Tony because he laughs. “My dad had a lot of pictures of you. I’ve known what you looked like since I was a kid. That’s why you caught me eye the night we met. You looked like the splitting image of Steve Rogers even with the darker hair.” Tony brushes a hand through Steve’s dyed brown hair. “And it didn’t seem like a coincidence that you had the same first name too.”

“But how did you  _ know _ ?” Steve asks, “Was it something I said? I did?”

“Pepper always looks into the people I start sleeping with. Just to make sure they’re not-” Tony waves a hand, “You know. Gold diggers, stalkers, all of that. Something about you seemed off to both of us. When JARVIS did some digging, he found out Steve Grant didn’t exist before 2010. I took over and after some fairly impressive sleuthing, found out some company was funding expeditions near the place your plane went down. You can guess the rest.”

Steve doesn’t know how he feels. This isn’t the secret he wanted Tony to know but now it’s out there and Tony’s...not running for the hills. But keeping his real identity a secret isn’t something... God. He can’t  _ think _ ! 

It’s a relief when Tony pulls him in for a hard kiss, biting and licking his doubts away until Steve’s helplessly clinging back. “I’m not letting you go,” Tony swears fiercely, holding Steve’s face tight between his hands. “I don’t give a damn who you are. You’re  _ mine _ .”

_ I wish that were true,  _ Steve laments quietly.

* * *

There’s plenty of good things that come out of Tony admitting he knows Steve’s true identity. The biggest one being that their sex life gets better. Tony’s got a kink for super strength, which shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Another added benefit is that Tony talks Steve into letting his natural hair color grow back out. “No one’s going to notice,” Tony promises him.

The one not so nice thing? 

“I can’t believe I’ve got Captain America’s giant cock in me.”

Steve groans, drops his head on Tony’s shoulder, and whines, “Tony!” He’s balls deep in the man! He can’t fucking believe that he’d say right now! 

Tony’s giggling underneath him, body shaking, soft breaths tickling the side of Steve’s throat. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just. It’s a little overwhelming. I didn’t think it’d feel this different without a condom. And I feel like it’s my duty to acknowledge how amazing you feel.”

“Your duty?” Steve asks sardonically, hefting himself up on his elbows so that he can look down at Tony, whose eyes sparkle with mirth. “You’re doing this because it’s your duty?”

“Well, no. Who can say no to Captain America?” Tony teases back, fingertips tracing random lines across Steve’s back. 

Rolling his eyes, Steve kisses Tony and lovingly tells him, “Shut up.”

“Yes, sir.”

For that? Steve pins Tony’s hands to the bed, fucking him until he’s  _ begging  _ for Steve to please, please, please touch his dick because he can’t come if he doesn’t have his dick touched but Steve breaks that misconception today. Tony pants as Steve rearranges them into a more comfortable position, shivering as he comes down from his high.

Steve holds him close, stroking his back, his hair, his sides until Tony’s breathing returns to normal. And the first thing he says, is a breathless, “God bless America.”

Groaning, Steve shoves Tony’s face into a pillow.

* * *

The client has terminated the contract because Steve’s taken too long. They’ve also sent half of the payment. Steve replies back saying he can’t accept the money and will be returning it within 24 hours.

Steve stares at the email, emotions torn. There’s relief and happiness, and then there’s the heavy sense of inevitability; he has to come clean to Tony. It’s the right thing to do. But if he tells Tony the truth... it’s the end for them. And that’s... 

He tries to rub away the burning sting of hot tears but the sensation only grows. Steve keeps his eyes squeezed shut, wishing someone would tell him what to do. Does he hold onto whatever's left of his morals and tell Tony the truth or maintain the lie? 

* * *

Steve jumps to his feet, chair clattering to the floor as he asks, “ _ What?”  _

Williams repeats herself, the urgency in her voice growing, “Yeah. The guy who cancelled your contract? He posted a new job saying he needed some thugs to pick Tony up and take the pacemaker out of his chest.” 

She babbles on about how she’s close to tracking down the identity of the contractor but Steve’s a million miles away, buried in the memory of Tony quietly admitting the glowing disc in his chest is a pacemaker.  _ That’s  _ what the job was about? Was that the arc reactor the whole time? If they take that thing out of Tony then...

Fear threatens to overwhelm him but Steve taps into his old army training; he needs to keep his head. Or else who knows what’ll happen to Tony. Steadying himself, Steve asks, “Tell me about the job.” 

“Get Tony Stark and take the device out of his chest. Pretty clear cut as far as jobs go.”

Right. If he’s going to be dealing with thugs, he’s going to need weapons. Steve throws the closet door open and yanks a few boards out of place to reveal safe hidden behind. As he spins the dial, he asks, “Anything else?”

Williams knows what he’s asking and grimly replies, “If they make his death look like an accident, there’s another fifty grand in it for them.”

_ Fuck _ . 

“Do you have any information on who took the job?” Steve asks as he pulls his guns out. He makes sure they’re in working order before he grabs a couple of clips of ammo. Hopefully he won’t need them but better safe than sorry.

“Sorry,” Williams apologizes. “I need more time for that. But they  _ were  _ stupid enough to mention where they’re going to keep him. I’ll forward you the address.”

“That’s more than enough. I owe you one Williams.”

“You owe me twenty at this point, but who’s keeping score?”

* * *

Any other time, it would be funny how easy it is to break into the warehouse Tony’s captors have picked as their hideout. It’s  _ ludicrously  _ easy.. Steve almost suspects its a trap but then he runs into the guys patrolling and he realizes that no, it’s just a bunch of fucking amateurs. No one spots him until he’s in the fucking basement where they’re keeping Tony locked up and then they think rushing him is a good move. 

Steve doesn’t even break a sweat as he takes them all out, leaving the group of seven a crumpled mess of blood and bruises before he heads down to the locked door at the end of the hallway. And he manages to do that all without firing a single shot. A new record for him. 

One of the goons had said they were keeping Tony locked up in a room at the end of the hallway. It’s enough to identify the room considering its the only one obviously locked in a corridor of open doors. It’s a reinforced door but it may as well be paper against his strength. Steve kicks the door down, heart in his throat as he hopes that he’s not too late.

Light pours into the dark room from behind Steve, illuminating the figure curled up on the bed. For a moment, the world freezes for Steve. He steps into the room, breathing in the damp, rust-tinted air. More light floods in, illuminating Tony’s face. He seems asleep. But Steve can’t make out the glow in his chest.

Steve stumbles in, telling himself not to lose hope so fast. He needs to check. He has to be sure...

Tony’s lying on his side, back to the wall. His body curls a little more into itself with a shiver. Steve lets out a shaky exhale before he sits gingerly down on the bed; Tony’s alive at least. That means they didn’t get his pacemaker out. That’s good.

His hand trembles with relief as he reaches out to touch Tony, to link their fingers together as his heart sings,  _ he’s alive!  _ He’s got a split lip and the beginnings of a shiner but no signs of bleeding. Now that he’s paying attention, he thinks he can see some of the pale blue glow of the arc reactor seeping through the thick material of Tony’s hoodie. 

As their palms connect, Tony’s eyes snap open. Steve watches him stare at their linked hands for a few seconds before he turns his head to look up. Terror transforms into shock when their eyes meet. He sees the question forming on Tony’s lips and quietens him with a finger. 

“I came to save you,” Steve tells Tony. 

There’s a million questions racing through Tony’s mind. Steve can see it in his eyes. But this isn’t the time or the place. Steve knows he’ll have to tell Tony everything once they’re out but until then...

Heart breaking, Steve ducks his head to kiss Tony’s lips, a little too hard and far too desperately. He licks the cut on Tony’s top lip, suckles tenderly on his bottom-lip. Steve allows himself to cling to Tony for a few seconds before he pulls back.

Tony’s free hand is curled into Steve’s jacket, holding him in place as he asks, “How’d you find me so fast? I think those goons picked me up just a couple of hours ago.”

Before Steve can decide between telling the truth, a half-truth, or a flat out lie, a loud clanging noise echoes down the hall. They turn as one to stare at the door. Tony’s grip on Steve’s jacket tightens in fear. For his part, Steve strains his hearing, closing his eyes to focus...

He hears footsteps, guns being readied, comm chatter. Fuck. This is someone new, someone more dangerous. Steve turns to Tony and asks, “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do,” Tony answers in a heartbeat.

Steve helps Tony to his feet, presses one more kiss to Tony’s forehead, and tells him, “Follow me.”

* * *

This new group of people are organized and armed to the teeth. They’re all dressed in black armored suits which have an eagle emblem on their shoulders. Their guns look top of the line to Steve’s untrained eye. Are they some kind of paramilitary force? They couldn’t be part of the mob, could they? But the guns aren’t even the worst of it; perhaps the worst part of it is that they’re trained and persistent. 

Steve takes out a team of five in the hallway, another five standing around his bike, and after that? Practically all hell breaks loose. There’s armored vehicles with tinted windows chasing after them. They’re bulletproof as well, as Steve learns as he tries to take them out. There’s even a fucking helicopter following them as Steve zigzags between highway traffic.

Tony yells over the wind, “Who’d you piss off?”

If Steve wasn’t focused on trying to lose their tail, he’d turn the question back on Tony. Because  _ who  _ the fuck are these people? 

Dread piles up in him the longer they’re on the run, one black drop at a time. Whoever they are, these people don’t seem like they’re going to give up. Steve needs to do something risky - get into the city and lose them in the warren of New York’s back alleys. It’s the only chance they’ve got at this point otherwise, they can just keep following him until his bike runs out of gas. 

Sweat drips down his back when he sees his exit as he weaves his way through traffic, Tony’s grip on his waist tightening. Licking his dry lips, Steve shoots one quick look behind him at the armored vehicles before deciding, fuck it, and makes a vicious turn to the left. He’ll take his chances in the city instead of being hunted down like a dog. 

* * *

It doesn’t work out. 

They crash into a barricade ten minutes after entering the city. The bike gets totalled. Steve winds up on his knees on hot asphalt, hands on his head, strange hands patting him down and relieving him of his weapons. His body thrums with adrenaline, rage, worry as one of the people in black suits help Tony up to his feet. 

He wants to snarl at them to be careful when Tony winces, wide brown-eyes turned to the brunette helping him to his feet. “Tony Stark. My name is Maria Hill. I’m with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics division. We’d like you to come with us please.”

“No!” Steve cries out, ready to stand up on his feet and fight every single person here, guns be damned, to stop this lady from taking Tony.

Tony turns around just in time to see a bulky guy snap a pair of cuffs on Steve. “Don’t bother trying to break out of these. You won’t be able too.”

Startled, Steve whips his head around to stare at the man.  _ What is...  _ He turns his attention to his bound wrists and applies force. Instead of snapping like a cheap plastic toy, the cuffs stay strong.

_ What the fuck _ ? Steve wonders dizzily, looking up in time to catch Tony’s wide-eyed look.  _ Who the fuck are these people? _

* * *

They’re a covert intelligence organization within the  _ fucking government _ . Steve just went and got himself captured by the US government and they  _ know who he is _ .

To say he’s up shit creek without a paddle would be an understatement.

* * *

It only gets worse when Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, informs him that they’ve been keeping tabs on him  _ since he got de-iced  _ and they know why he shacked up with Tony.

This day could not get any worse.

* * *

Then Tony shows up in his holding cell.

* * *

“Hey Steve.”

“Tony,” Steve breathes out. He’s on his feet and in front of Tony in a heartbeat, eyes raking over Tony’s figure. 

Tony’s wearing grey sweats and a black tshirt. The sweats have the SHIELD logo stitched near the left pocket. In the poorly lit holding cell, Tony’s bruises look awful. There’s a new set of scratch marks on his neck that Steve knows happened after he crashed the bike. It makes Steve wince and hope that thats the worst of Tony’s hurt.

Steve wishes the bars weren’t electrified just so that he could reach out for Tony but as it is, the most he can do is ask, “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?”

An odd smile flits over Tony’s face before he schools his expression into something more neutral. Dread turns leaden in Steve’s stomach when Tony looks away for a moment, clearly bracing himself, before he looks back at Steve with a hard, determined expression. 

“You don’t have to pretend you care anymore.” Before Steve can ask, Tony goes on to say. “I know you were hired to steal the arc reactor plans. So you can drop the act.”

The world tilts, leaving Steve scrambling to find something to hold onto before he rolls off into the void. Desperately, Steve says, “It’s not an act! I-”

“So you  _ didn’t  _ get hired to steal from me?”

It’s not the cold tone that hurts the most, more than Tony’s cutting gaze. Steven can only stares at Tony, despairing over this whole situation and how he let it get this bad. Exhaling, Steve hangs his head in shame and admits, “I did.” 

But he just as quickly looks up, beseeching for Tony to understand. “At first it was just about the job but then I fell in love with you. I kept dragging things out because I-”

“Don’t!” Tony interrupts sharply. It  _ kills  _ Steve to see the wet sheen in Tony’s eyes. He wishes he could press his thumb to Tony’s trembling bottom lip and kiss his worries away. Instead he’s standing on the other side of these electrified bars, watching Tony try to hold himself together in the face of this betrayal. “Don’t... _ say _ that. You don’t...”

A chilly silence hangs between them as Tony looks away, angrily massaging his forehead while Steve stumbles in the metaphorical dark, wondering if there’s  _ anything  _ he could say that would make Tony believe him. 

“Do you know who hired you?” Tony finally asks, glancing back at Steve.

Regretfully, Steve shakes his head. 

“Because  _ that’d  _ be too easy. Do you know  _ anything  _ about whoever hired you?”

“No. I just know they were unhappy with how slow I was going and they cancelled my contract a week ago.”

Surprise flashes in Tony’s eyes and that.  _ That’s  _ Steve’s chance. 

He gets as close as he dares to the bars, pleading with Tony. “Tony, please listen to me. I never meant for any of this to happen. I admit when I took this job it was... I thought I knew what I was getting into. But then I got to know you and I couldn’t help but fall for you. It became less about the job and more about wanting to be with you. I know you don’t have  _ any  _ reason to believe me but ...”

Steve trails off, not sure what to say because the way Tony’s looking at him, stricken, hopeful,  _ hurt _ . It closes his throat off and makes his heart shrink in shame. Swallowing, Steve continues, voice hoarse and low. “But  _ please  _ believe me when I say that  _ you  _ became more important than the job  _ ages  _ ago.”

Steve wishes he could turn back time and not take the job or had come clean to Tony faster or that he’d told Tony he loved him before everything went to hell. 

But he can’t. Steve hangs his head in resignation, exhaling shakily; it’s the only sound in the room for a second. There’s nothing left to say except, “I’m so sorry for hurting you. I never meant to do that. I just...”

The door beeps. Steve glances up just in time to see Tony walking out the door.

Steve’s heart sinks straight down into his boots and cracks. 

* * *

His eidetic memory is a blessing and a curse as he wallows in his grief, remembering all the time he’s spent with Tony. It’s self-flagellation as much as it’s fond rumination. Steve’s in the middle of the memory of a lazy Sunday morning where they’d royally fucked up making breakfast when the door beeps.

_ Tony?  _ Steve hopes as he jerks up.

But no. It’s Nick Fury  _ and  _ Coulson, and they both look concerned. Without really meaning too, Steve sits up and asks, “What’s wrong?”

Coulson flips open a folder and reads from it. “You told Stark that you didn’t know who hired you to steal the arc reactor plans from him. Is that correct, sir?”

Wearily, Steve shakes his head. “Please don’t call me that. And no, I didn’t know.”

Coulson checks something else in the folder. “Can you tell us why you asked your friend - Williams, was it? - to check who had posted the job in the first place?”

Shit. They knew about Williams? And how the hell did they know that Steve had... Fuck. He’d never get an answer to that if he asked, would he? Resigning himself to his fate, Steve answers, “Once I got close to Tony, I realized a lot of the information I got in the brief was...questionable. So I asked my friend to look into it.”

“So you  _ didn’t  _ know you were hired by Obadiah Stane?”

Steve’s head snaps to Fury so fast he’s shocked he doesn’t pull a muscle. “ _ What _ ?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t,” Fury says wryly, nodding at Coulson. “Show him.”

Coulson closes the folder before he passes it through the bars for Steve. Steve snatches it out of the agent’s hand and opens it. There’s a small stack of papers here; op specs, transcripts, and witness testimony given by people that prove that Stane’s been after the arc reactor Tony had developed during his captivity in Afghanistan. 

_ But why?  _ Steve wonders, mind spinning with bewilderment.  _ Why is he going through all this effort for a damn medical device? It can’t be worth  _ that  _ much?  _

Looking up, Steve says, “I don’t understand... all this for a state-of-the-art pacemaker?”

The pause that follows, and the way Fury and Coulson exchange a glance, that pings something in Steve’s mind; he doesn’t know the full story here. Something is deeply and terribly wrong here.

“Captain, the arc reactor isn’t  _ just  _ a fancy pacemaker,” Coulson explains. “Simply put, it’s an incredibly potent powerful source. Three standard-sized arc reactors can generate enough power to sustain all of New York’s energy needs for atleast five years. Even if you miniaturize the technology, that’s still eight gigajoules per second.” 

“Is that a lot?” Steve can’t help but ask.

The corner of Fury’s lip twitches up. “The largest power plant in the US run at  _ one  _ gigajoules per second.”

Steve goggles at the man in utter disbelief because that sounds incredible and ludicrous at the same time. It doesn’t surprise him that Tony made something that amazing but...

“Why are you telling me all of this?” He looks between the pair. 

“There’s an ongoing situation we need your help with. By which I mean, we need Captain America.”

The beginnings of a headache start to prickle behind his left eye. Sighing tiredly because he can’t believe they’re back at  _ that,  _ Steve closes the folder with a sharp snap. “I told you before. I’m not interested.”

“Even if it involves your boyfriend’s well being?” Steve looks back up, heart skipping a beat as Fury smirks. “Thought that might get your attention.”

* * *

“I’m doing this for Tony,” Steve reminds Coulson. In front of him, the display cases’ glass door smoothly rise up into the ceiling, giving Steve access to the Captain America uniform and shield. 

Coulson simply nods before gesturing to the door on Steve’s left. “You can change in there. Once you’re done, we’ll fly you to Stark’s. If we’re lucky, you’ll get there before Stane makes his move.”

Nodding, Steve grabs the blue and red uniform off the display dummy and hurries to the changing room. He hopes they’re not too late.

* * *

Steve moves cautiously through Tony’s home, shield raised defensively. JARVIS isn’t responding, which means something is terribly wrong. Steve’s got the terrible suspicion that whatever Stane had planned on doing? He’s done it. Steve tries to push those paranoid thoughts aside by they continue to whisper from the shadows the longer this oppressive silence hangs over the house. It makes him hurry down to Tony’s lab, a guy called Hawkeye on his heels.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” the man mutters, wielding an honest to God bow and arrow in his hands. What kind of a  _ sane  _ person goes into a fight with a God damned  _ bow and arrow _ ? Maybe he’s not the best person to point this out considering that all he’s got is his shield...

He holds his fist up when he sees the doors to Tony’s lab are wide open; Tony never leaves them open. Even if there was the off chance that Tony’d left them open, they’d hear something - Tony’s rock music, the sound of him working,  _ something _ . But instead, there’s si- 

Steve catches a familiar low-whining sound coming from the lab. One of the bots is moving around. Could it be that Tony isn’t home? Steve focuses a little bit, straining his hearing to catch something, anything beyond the sound of a bot moving around. It takes a few seconds but then he hears a sickly wheeze from somewhere in the lab. He’s heard that sound before when Tony was in the middle of a panic attack.

Licking his dry lips, Steve holds up three fingers. He hears the slow, almost inaudible tightening of a bowstring behind him. 

Two fingers; the leather of Steve’s glove creaks as he tightens his grip. 

One.

They rush into the lab, Steve ready to toss his shield at any enemy in sight and Hawkeye ready to let his arrow fly. But instead of a villain, they come face-to-“face” with DUM-E, who raises his claw and tilts it curiously. Meanwhile Tony hefts himself up off the floor and halfway on a table and wheezes, “The fuck are you doing here?”

“Came here to save you but it looks like you’ve got that covered,” Hawkeye drawls from the side.

Steve lowers his shield as he hurries to Tony’s side. Glass crunches under his boots and Steve wonders what broke. He ignores it in favor of helping Tony to his feet, eyes taking in Tony’s sickly pale color and the sweat beading on his forehead. He looks  _ awful _ . 

“What the hell happened?”

“Stane,” Tony wheezes out, a hand pressed protectively over the arc reactor. “He did something to JARVIS before he took the arc reactor from me. Said he had plans for it.”

It hurts when Tony pulls away but Steve tries not to let it get to him. He fails spectacularly at that. Instead, he focuses on Tony, who is shuffling to a corner of the lab, jaw set in determination. “I’ve got to stop him.”

Steve’s glad that Hawkeye’s the one to point out, “You couldn’t stop a feather right now, how the hell are you gonna stop Stane from doing whatever it is he’s got planned?”

Tony’s dark eyes gleam wickedly in response.

* * *

So turns out, the super secret project Tony’s been working on the whole time? It was an armor. 

But not just  _ any  _ armor. It’s the most sophisticated piece of technological armor on the God-damned planet. All the vague hints Tony’d given him before... Steve would  _ never  _ had imagined that  _ this  _ is what Tony had been working on. There was just no way. It’s shiny, chrome, and  _ it can fly _ . 

Steve gapes at the red and gold suit as robotic arms move seamlessly around each other to equip Tony. It’s like something out of Asimov’s wildest dreams, the way everything comes together. It looks so  _ alive  _ even though it’s just metal. Steve wants to draw the armor actually. It’s bulky sure but there’s beauty and strength in the soft curved lines. 

“See something you like?” Tony asks.

Looking up, he sees Tony smirking at him and Steve  _ hopes  _ he’s not blushing (but also knows he  _ so  _ is). It’s maybe a little too eager and feverish but Steve admits, “Yeah.” 

Tony almost smiles at him before he visibly collects himself. His shoulders straighten up and he seems to grow taller, harder when he turns his serious gaze at Hawkeye. “Do you have any intel on where Ob-Stane is right now? And where's Pepper? Stane said he was going to 'deal' with her.”

The man’s got a finger against the comm in his ear. He listens for a moment before nodding. “I do.”

* * *

As he watches Tony, red and golden armor gleaming in the moonlight, get chased by Stane’s bastardized monstrosity of an armor, Steve’s heart shrivels in fear and he chokes on the darkness rising in his lungs. Everything in him grinds to a halt; he’s frozen in place, mind racing as he tries to figure out how he can get up there to help Tony. 

His eyes stay locked on the twin streaks of light shooting up into the sky. Why does he feel like he can’t breathe? His knees go weak when he realizes that Stane’s catching up to Tony. In another couple of seconds, Stane’s going to catch Tony. 

But he never gets to see that happen because a cloud drifts by, hiding the figures from Steve’s gaze. There’s nothing to do but stand there like a useless fool and wait. Finally, the cloud moves out of the way. Steve holds his breath when catches sight of two dark figures haloed against the moon. They’re not fighting. It looks like Stane’s caught Tony.

“No,” Steve moans without meaning too.

The figures grapple in mid-air for a few heart stopping seconds. And then one of the figures goes into free fall. It’s like that first slap of ice water all over again. A gasp rattles his chest, legs flying as he pounds over concrete and rubble, hoping against hope that maybe if he runs fast enough, hard enough, he’ll get to where the figure is falling and catch Tony before he...

Wait.

Steve skids to a halt, squinting up into the dark because the figure that’s falling is too big. It’s not Tony; it’s Stane. He looks up a little more, heart in his throat, and he sees five points of light that splutter and then die. Once... twice...  _ That’s _ got to be Tony, clumsily attempting to control his fall. It occurs to Steve that Tony must have taken some damage during the fight. 

_ Where’s he going to land? Where’s he going to fall?  _ Steve’s brain screams at him.  _ Think you idiot! THINK! _

He can’t come up with an answer and Tony winds up dropping like a stone straight onto Stark Industries’ rooftop. Steve takes off like a shot, running past the SHIELD agents who are heading towards where Stane has fallen. 

Steve’s concocted at least 11 different horrifying scenarios where Tony’s critically injured, near death, worsened his heart condition, and/or gotten stuck in that tin can of an armor as he raced up the stairs. The last thing he imagined was hurting Tony himself when he throws the roof-top access door open and it smacks into Tony’s face with an affronted yell. 

“Son of a  _ bitch _ !” Tony yelps from the other side of the door and Steve is quick to the jump to the other side. 

“Tony? Tony? Are you okay?” Steve asks, dropping his shield as he kneels next to Tony, who is sprawled on the floor on his ass, both hands cupping his face. He’s still in his armor, face-plate up. Fuck, should he call Hawkeye? Call an ambulance? Did SHIELD have any EMT people on the team?

“I can’t believe I didn’t get hurt during that whole fight but you broke my fucking nose  _ after  _ I crash landed!” Tony complains, swatting Steve’s worried hands with one hand while he keeps the other protectively cupped over his nose.

Terror has clawed its way into Steve’s bones and not even the sight of Tony peevishly glaring at him seems to help. Not even when he gently touches Tony’s face to check the damage for himself. Not even when Tony quietly tells him, “I’m fine. Just... just a little shaken up but... I’m not hurt.”

The only thing that  _ starts  _ to help, is when Steve ducks his head to press a relieved kiss on Tony’s lips.

* * *

Tony pulls away almost immediately with a hiss because a broken nose and kissing is a terrible combination.

* * *

“Where the fuck did you get the Halloween costume, by the way?” Tony asks him as a SHIELD medic wraps Tony’s bruised ribs up.

Coulson, who stands two steps behind Steve, who is hovering next to Tony’s gurney, makes an odd little sound. It sounds vague offended. “Halloween costume?” the man asks in far too polite tone.

“Yeah. That’s the most basic-kind of kevlar you can get. It’s not going to help him out. Plus,” Tony nods, gesturing lazily at Steve’s hips. “Doesn’t do anything for his ass.”

The unexpected compliment sets Steve’s face aflame. He’s glad he’s got the helmet on because it hides the worst of his blush. 

* * *

Fury pulls them in for a debrief once Stane’s been collected and they’ve got all the information they need from Tony’s offices. Stane’s dead, so he’ll never face justice for what he’s done or the crimes he’s committed. Turns out, Stane was responsible for several crimes: selling Stark weapons to terrorists under the table, collaborating with Ten Rings to orchestrate Tony’s kidnapping,  _ and  _ he was the one who’d hired Steve to steal the arc reactor plans from Tony.

But the public isn’t going to be told any of that. The cover story is simple. Stane died in a tragic accident on-site. SHIELD’s investigation into Tony’s kidnapping is classified and the responsible parties have been dealt with accordingly. As for the two armored figures caught on camera by many a mobile phone? A cutting-edge Stark product, one of them being Tony’s bodyguard. 

Steve’s eyes keep going to Tony the whole time, drinking his tense figure in, wanting to smooth the tension out of Tony’s tight shoulders. But Tony’s attention is locked on Fury. Steve’s attention comes back when Fury calls his name and tells them both about something called the “Avengers Initiative.” 

That’s when Steve pays closer attention, incredulousness rising at the idea because what kind of threats is Fury expecting if he wants to put together a team like  _ this _ ? It’s still a struggle to stay focused on what Fury is saying because adrenaline has long worn off and all Steve wants to do is crawl into bed with Tony and go to sleep. 

But the fact that he’s lost that privilege occurs to him only when they clamber into an unmarked black SUV and are asked by the driver where should she drop them off. Steve wishes he was alone so that he could fall to pieces in peace (ha) but Tony keeps sliding him surreptitious looks that the hopeful part of Steve reads as concern but it  _ can’t  _ be. It can’t. 

But when they pull up to Tony’s stop, the man slips his hand into Steve’s and asks, voice low and soft, “You want to come up?”

Steve almost sobs in relief.

* * *

It feels wrong, the way Tony’s being so gentle with him.  _ He’s  _ the one who should be doing that for Tony but instead it’s Tony who’s supporting him as they head inside. Steve just focuses on the hand holding his, the warmth of the touch and the soft feel of Tony’s palm in his own. 

_ It’s okay. He’s alright.  _ Steve reassures himself. _ He’s just got some bruises and a broken nose. He’s fine.  _

And then Tony goes and flips the script on him by crumpling to his knees as soon as he steps into the bedroom, yanking a startled cry out of Steve’s rough throat. Tony blinks up at him, doe-eyed and surprised like he’s not sure what just happened and why is Steve on his knees next to him?

Steve’s not sure how long they kneel on the hard floor, clinging to each other as Tony’s breathing shudders and his body shakes. But he knows that he can’t let go of Tony. He’s going to stay and help Tony put the pieces back together if Tony’ll allow it. 

* * *

It’s close to 1AM by the time they crawl into bed. Steve knows that the morning is going to bring new challenges and Tony will want an explanation for what happened and why is he back in the Captain America suit but that’s a problem for future Steve. Present Steve is fighting the battle to keep his eyes open as Tony sleepy peers back at him.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” Steve thinks he hears Tony whisper through the heavy fog that’s settled over his brain.

_ I’ll always come for you,  _ Steve thinks, pushing the words out of his mouth. He feels a warm squeeze to his hand. 

* * *

The next morning is an awkward mess mostly because they oversleep and Pepper comes barging in to hustle Tony out. Steve watches Tony leave, heart sinking at the sight of the pair walking out but right before he leaves, Tony stops in the doorway. He visibly hesitates before he turns to look at Steve, who is still sitting in bed, and asks, “You’ll be here when I get back.... Right?”

That’s more than what he deserves. Hope swells like a balloon in Steve’s chest, choking his reply. He’s breathless at the possibility that maybe he didn’t completely fuck this up. “Yeah. I’ll be here.”

* * *

When he hears Tony declare to the world that he’s Iron Man? Steve’s speechless all over again because  _ what _ happened to following the script? 

* * *

“Did you have anything to do with this?” Coulson’s teeny voice demands through the phone.

Steve dumbly shakes his head before he realizes that Coulson can’t see him. “No. He... he just...that was all him.”

Coulson sighs wearily on his side.

* * *

It’s a bit of a shirt storm after that, both of them caught up in the storms that sweep over their lives. They’re like two ships passing in the night what with Tony trying to put out the fire he ignited in his company and Steve being given a crash course in SHIELD operations and how he’ll be expected to lead the Avengers, a team which currently consists of him, Hawkeye, and an operative called “Black Widow,” who he has yet to meet. 

Days pass without any opportunity to sit down and talk until one morning, Steve comes home from his morning run and finds Tony sipping coffee while watching the morning news. He’s wearing his lounging clothes and is at ease in a way that implies he’s not going anywhere for a while. And Steve knows as soon as their eyes meet, that it’s time for a long overdue talk. And boy if it isn’t one of the more the most difficult conversations Steve’s ever had. 

Confessing to his awful deeds, learning that Fury was the one to tell Tony the whole truth - Steve’s involvement and Stane’s betrayal - he chokes on the bitter pills. It’s hard because Tony’s got his guard up.All Steve wants is forgiveness and an opportunity to prove to Tony that his feelings are very much real. 

Steve holds Tony’s hand and despairs, wondering aloud what does he need to do to earn Tony’s trust back? 

Tony’s lips press together tight before he whispers, “Space. I need... time. To get my head on straight to see if...”

Steve’s heart sinks into his shoes with misery but if that’s what Tony wants...

“I understand,” he says, vocal chords scrapping together with the effort it takes to admit defeat.

* * *

Steve looks around his apartment and feels misery seep out of him like miasma. He wants so  _ badly  _ to go back to Tony, to grovel for his forgiveness but...

Steve presses his back against the front door and lets gravity pull him down. 

But he  _ can’t _ because Tony asked for space and that’s what Steve is going to do. He can’t follow the desire to fight in this case because that’s going to make things worse. He’s going to respect Tony’s wish. 

* * *

It’s the hardest fucking thing he’s had to do since waking up.

* * *

At least the SHIELD works keeps him busy. There’s tests, paperwork, and other team building activities he’s made to do with Hawkeye and a red-haired woman called Natasha. Steve wants to figure out exactly what they’re capable of before he starts devising any kind of strategies. 

In the meanwhile, Coulson’s trying to recruit some other people down in New Mexico but according to Clint, he isn’t having a lot of luck. Hawkeye gets roped into that recruitment effort soon enough. Shortly after that, Natasha’s sent on a mission to Bangladesh or India to try and track another potential team member down. 

Which means that Steve’s got to have lunch on his own in the noisy SHIELD cafeteria. 

* * *

He’s morosely poking at the pile of green on his tray, wondering how much gas he’s going to get if he eats them, when a familiar voice drawls, “I wouldn’t trust any food that looks like that.”

Steve’s heart leaps at the unexpected sight of Tony standing next to his table. “Tony,” he breathes out, smiling a little as he takes Tony in. He looks amazing in his skinny jeans and leather jacket combination.

The brunet sits down across the table from Steve, dark eyes hidden behind tinted glasses. Today’s color of choice is pale lilac shade that matches the soft purple t-shirt he’s got on underneath the jacket. He looks effortlessly chic and wonderful. Steve’s heart aches because he’s been missing Tony so much these past few weeks. He’d thought that if he could just get a glimpse of him, it’d soothe his hurt. But he’d been so wrong because now that Tony’s in front of him, talking to him? His hurt just amplifies because Tony looks  _ good _ . He doesn’t look like he’s been having sleepless nights or has been throwing himself into work to exhaust himself to sleep.

“Where’s the rest of your posse?” Tony asks.

“Posse?” Steve asks. “You mean Hawkeye and Natasha?”

“I dunno their names. Fury just said you were working with two SHIELD agents and getting them in shape for his boy band.”

The wave of fondness that overtakes him almost knocks Steve over.  _ I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you,  _ his soul moans as Tony smirks at him. 

He can’t help but melt under Tony’s gaze, laughing quietly as he admits, “They’re both out trying to recruit some more people for Fury’s Avengers.”

“Fury’s Avengers...” Tony mutters, pausing for a long beat before he asks, faking nonchalance very well. “Are you’re on-board with that? Becoming part of his team?”

Steve looks down at his tray, at those damn greens, as he admits, “Was part of the deal when I agreed to become Captain America again to help you.”

This next beat of silence is awkward and painful at the same time. That’s not something he’d gotten to tell Tony last time they’d met. It just... hadn’t come up. Tony looks taken aback for a second before he’s leaning back in his chair, staring at Steve like he’s trying to crack a puzzle. Steve spears a soggy potato wedge instead of the greens and chews on it. It tastes like fluffy cardboard and it goes down about as smoothly as sharp gravel.

As he swallows, Tony exhales quietly. His posture is unnaturally stiff, shoulders and voice tight with tension when he says, “Fury asked me a while ago if I wanted to join the Avengers too.”

“I remember,” Steve murmurs.

Tony’s eyes are too big, too bright when he meets Steve’s gaze. “I said yes.”

That’s shocking news. “You know I’m the one leading the team right?”

“Yes.”

“And you still agreed?”

“I did.”

Steve stares back at Tony, not sure how he feels. This is simultaneously the best and worst news he’s received because being in that close proximity to Tony is going to hurt like hell but at least he’ll have Tony in his life. That’ll be leagues better than the alternative. He blinks back the burning sensation itching the corner of his eyes and pulls up a wide smile, “That’s fantastic! We need a heavy hitter like Iron Man on the team.”

A complicated expression passes through Tony’s eyes before open skepticism replaces it. ‘Really?’ the man asks with a raised eyebrow. ‘That’s all you got for me?’

Steve’s smile feels like it cracks at the edges underneath Tony’s judgement, along with his ability to keep his head up. Across from him, Tony lets out another exhale, longer and more regretful this time. He hears a quiet clicking noise before Tony murmurs, “If you don’t want me to join, just say it.”

He shakes his head, hard and fast. Steve looks up and meets Tony’s soft brown gaze watching him. “No. We need you. We’re happy to have you.”

“Are you?” Tony asks, the faintest edge of vulnerability creeping into his tone. 

“ _ Of course  _ I am.” The confession comes out too fast and he means it too much. Even he’s startled by how deeply he means it. Tony looks similarly taken aback. Fuck. What’s he got to lose at this point? What’s a little more hurt as the cost of sharing a bitter truth he’s going to have to live with soon enough? Steve looks away from Tony’s handsome face and mumbles, “I’ll have you any way I can have. It’s better than-”

His courage gives out on him, turning the rest of his confession into dead air. Someone behind him laughs, merrily and too loudly. The clinking of cutlery against the metal trays rings in his ears. A low whine starts to build in his ears the longer the silence stretches out between him and Tony. 

Appetite long gone, Steve begins to stand, throat closing up, figuring he’s going to beat his sadness out on a couple of punching bags when Tony’s hand shoots across the table to grab his wrist. Steve starts, causing his chair to drag against the floor with a loud screech. Tony’s stretched out across the table. He’s taken his glasses off and he looks...agitated. 

Tony swallows harshly before he asks, “If I asked you that... all I wanted to be was friends... would you?”

“I would.” The admission literally  _ hurts  _ but if that’s what Tony wants...

“Would you try to win me back?”

Slightly confused because Steve can’t figure out what Tony’s trying to say, he nods cautiously. “If I knew I had a chance...I would. I’d like the chance to win your trust back. To show you that I really care for you.”  _ That I still love you,  _ Steve doesn’t say but he hopes that’s obvious to Tony.

Something sweet and wonderful blooms in Tony’s face at his confession. It’s like a spring breeze thawing the winter chill on a sapling. Steve holds his breath, waiting in anticipation.

“I know a thing or two about making mistakes,” Tony begins, voice low but steady. “And I also know that I still want you in my life. I know my feelings haven’t changed. Resentment is... corrosive and I don’t want that.” The spark of hope burns into a soft fire that warms Steve down to his toes, a cozy heat that makes him want to melt into Tony. “I want another shot.”

“At us?” Steve asks, suddenly breathless and overwhelmed with a happiness he didn’t think he could have again.

Tony’s lips quick up. “Yeah. All cards on the table this time.”

“No lies,” Steve promises, feeling a little dizzy with happiness. 

It feels like a dream. He’s scared he’ll wake up with a snap at any moment and find himself alone in his small apartment. Especially when Tony grins, stands to his full height, and starts to pull Steve away with his grip still around the blond’s wrist. “Let me take you out for lunch. The food here should be classified as a health hazard.”

Steve’s happy to let Tony take the lead, changing their grip so that their fingers are linked together. He shoots Tony a tentative look as he does so because they haven’t talked about this - PDAs, much less under SHIELD’s roof. 

But Steve wants Tony to know that he doesn’t want to hide how he feels. So when Tony glances down at their links hands, Steve asks, “Is this okay?” 

Tony answer is to squeeze Steve’s hand back, smiling gently, happily. “Yeah. So. Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere’s fine so long as you’re with me”

**Author's Note:**

> I got the gigajoules thing from some post on quora. if that isn't correct then /waves the comic-logic wand
> 
> If there's anything else that's missing in the tags, please let me know.
> 
> lastly, /makes hungry baby bird noises/ pls feed me with comments o


End file.
